insatiable affection
by Yui Miyamoto
Summary: Soubi's stuck on an art project he's supposed to do, and Seimei decides to help him just a little bit…


**fandom - Loveless**  
 **title - insatiable affection.**  
 **rating - pg-13**  
 **pairing - seimei + soubi**  
 **description – Soubi's stuck on an art project he's supposed to do, and Seimei decides to help him just a little bit…**

 **Disclaimer – Kouga Yun-sensei owns this title. I just love it to death so I write for it.**

When I got it back, I held it in my hands and examined it by the window brightening the room with the afternoon sun. My eyes looked at it from the bottom to the top.

I knew I got a good grade for it, so I didn't even bother to see what it was.

I smiled, but my heart ached because this was how I perceived myself to be. The more I analyzed it, I realized that his smirk wasn't meant for me. Not at all.  
Again, he's teased me by thinking of someone else, and all I could do was grit my teeth and bear the pain.

I am malleable inside his young hands and my mind grows restless at what his games will lead to. Never satisfied, unfinished, hot, and dripping…

This is how I like it. This is the epitome of what I call –

'affection'.

 **insatiable affection.  
By miyamoto yui**

There are few things in the world that you can hold onto.

Sketch, sketch…

For, everything leaves as soon as it comes. The more you are enamored, the faster its physical presence leaves. But all the more, it leaves a lasting impression that presses onto your chest. Deep inside your heart, a tattoo has been made in its place.

It's claimed you instead of you declaring ownership over it.

I tilt my head from side to side and I can look at something or someone from many perspectives, but I will always project what I want to see. The human inclination is to make something pleasant, to soothe you by taking all your words away, embedding them into colors and lines that may resemble something familiar.  
But at certain times, you become masochistic: You want to present the essence of your pain. It is a living poem that can be misinterpreted by everyone besides yourself because only you know the true meaning of its existence, assuming you even understand the nature of your infliction.

Only in seeing yourself through different mediums, besides that of a mirror, will you be able to face the reality of who and what you are deep inside.

Only then will you be able to face the multiple facets and expressions of the moons within yourself. Always, there is a part of you eclipsed in darkness. And in those moments, you desperately clutch onto anything for a little sunlight or run as far as you can to hide it where even you will forget where it's buried.

But some of us aren't that strong to lift our heads to the prism-colored mirror.  
Sinking further into our own demise, we become indecisive until we're trapped not knowing anything of ourselves.

Splish.  
The color discolors the wooden floor as he plops down on my bed with his hands behind his head. I take a quick glimpse of him as I bend down to pick up my paintbrush. I don't even bother to wipe the blemish away.

I kind of like it. It looks dark lavender, just as I imagine the color of my true blood to be.  
It is also the color of his ears…

I continue to watch the white canvas in front of me that's covered in light penciled lines. I trace the scratches with my eyes and the question keeps on pounding into my head. It's been on my mind for so long (even though it's only been a few days) that it's taken a personality of its own.  
It's taken a needle-like voice that makes me cringe in aching pleasure. _His_ voice.

Sensei has entered another realm within my being that I don't wish to be confronted with yet.

"Why such a glum face, Soubi?"  
I glance at him again as he kneels on the bed behind me. He's closing his eyes and his breath touches my ear in a persuasive tone that suggests he can see right through me, but makes me think I can do whatever I want.  
He opens his eyes and gives me a sharp smile with his eyes laughing at the same time.

I go right back to my unfinished painting.  
He clasps my shoulders in between his arms. His hands press against my chest, just under my collarbone. He massages these spots for a second or two with his fingers.

"You won't tell me, huh?" His cheek presses onto mine.  
"I told you that you'd be bored watching me paint, Seimei," I remind him. Then, I smirk. "If you order me to, then I'll tell you exactly what's on my mind."  
"Oh, would you?" He asks with a dark chuckle.

His hands glide down to my nipples and he holds them in between his fingers. "Let's see who will give in first."  
He grins deviously with his teeth showing. I don't have to see it to know that it's there, though.

I clear my throat and continue to stare at the canvas that's slowly driving me insane. "For one who loves to keep secrets, you sure are a very curious person towards other people's affairs."  
He doesn't say anything as he nuzzles his mouth lightly over my neck. Then, he places his chin on my shoulder.

I don't give in.  
It's the way he likes it.  
He rubs on the area with his thumbs.  
The pinching prickles of small, throbbing pains shoot through my body. And that's the way I enjoy it.

"You're stuck, aren't you, Soubi?" he whispers into my ear in a low voice as his hands slide over my arms until he's taken hold of both my hands and the paintbrush. "I can help you."  
"This is an individual project," I plainly answer while knowing full well he'll ignore whatever I've said because it doesn't suit his tastes.

I laugh as I let go of his hands and place the paintbrush into his right hand. I raise up my hands and reach backwards to touch his cat ears. He smiles at me and for a moment, his guard is down.  
He looks innocent for a brief moment until he's back to observing me with such precision that his knife-like eyes can't cut any little detail out of its sphere of influence.

I let go and place my hands under his again, but when he gives me the paintbrush, both of his hands pull on my shirt forcefully. Some of the buttons tear out.  
He's getting irritated.

It's the unpredictability of our relationship that intrigues him the most. As long as I don't make him bored…

At this point, I give in. I reach back and pat his left cheek tenderly. "Draw what you see. In one picture, draw who you are and what you'll become."

Seimei's ears aren't standing on end anymore. His touch softens. He's very pleased that I've finally given him an answer.

But the prompt, even as I've said it…  
Sensei's voice is the one that takes over inside my head. I have recited it as if he himself gave me these instructions with his cruel, temptatious voice.

I know now what I'm painting.  
I'm so inspired it hurts.

Swish, dab, pat, swish swish…

At the end, we are staring at ourselves in two-dimensional form.  
As if we had been in front of a mirror, Seimei has his arm crossing over my chest with his hand reaching inside of my shirt. The other hand is grasping helplessly onto my shoulder. His head is buried into one of my shoulders. With his bangs covering his eyes, his cat ears show along with a small corner of his smirk.  
I am holding a palette full of messy colors, both light and dark, mixing into one another.

On my white shirt, there are dark lavender lines, the same color painted on his fingertips touching my shoulders. His thumb touches the chin on my shadowed face.

My body is half covered in bloodied bandages with one end held in his mouth…

There is an invisible diagonal line from the bottom left corner to the upper right-hand corner. It separates the colors on the right and the gray sketch line on the left.

It's already past midnight, but Seimei hasn't stared away. He holds his hand out towards the art piece and says, "Your name shall be 'Insatiable affection'."

His lips brush against my cheeks as he holds my shoulders tighter, but with his hand inside my blouse still pressing into my chest. His fingernail follows the line of a deep scar over my heart.

That means he likes it. He enjoys it.

He's named it and claimed it as his own.

It is no longer mine.  
It is his doing.

He'll never let me have anything because everything that's mine is determined to be his, as said through all his actions and words. He's decreed it so.

Even my soul has been robbed.  
But how can it be stolen when I freely gave it away?

Then, the same fingers that touched the lines over my heart crawl up my chest, over the letters etched 'Beloved' and take a hold of my neck. He doesn't strangle me, but if there was a mirror in front of us now, it would look like it.

And all I can do is kiss the other hand whose fingers are covering my mouth, appearing as if they're suffocating me.  
I genuinely grin in anticipation of the next test he'll give me.

"Insatiable affection is the perfect name for it."

 **Owari.**  
 **-**  
 **Author's note –** I hadn't planned to make another Loveless fic so soon, but here it came out. The concept was actually for another fic, but as with a fic I wrote for Tokyo Babylon last year, I felt that it could reach more people through this character and this fandom.  
It is for the pure sake that these thoughts have been plaguing me and I will soon be going to Anime Expo. I go there for one reason and one reason only, whether or not it will happen.

(But for those going to AX, on Sunday and Monday, I'll be Zero's Youji and my best friend will be Natsuo! I'll be Yuuko from XXXHolic on Friday and Saturday! Please say hi to me!)

So, all in all, I made another Soubi fic, but one with Seimei, unexpectedly. So, here is your full Seimei fic, Niko!

Love,  
Yui

Wednesday, June 29, 2005  
2:23:01 AM


End file.
